2010

2009 was a horrible year. I have lost more this year than I have in nearly two decades. I am coping. It is not easy, but like everything, it will pass.

I was standing in a room full of people I grew up with the other night. People I thought I knew so well, people I was once so comfortable around, people I assumed would be a part of my life forever. I have never felt more awkward or upset. I suppose I feel like I'm someone who easily slips to the bottom of lists. I am not new or exciting or outgoing; I am odd and shy and afraid. And I think most people know and understand that I am not going anywhere, that I will always be around to fall back on when needed. I'm just lonely. My former friends don't answer my calls or messages. I am guilty of ignoring calls and backing out of plans as well, but it isn't because I've found something better to do; it's because I don't know how to adapt.

I stand a stranger in my skin. I keep hearing about people I went to school with getting married and having babies. I see photos of weddings and showers and fuzzy little newborns. And I worry. I want those things, but I can't imagine them ever happening. 2020 is not very far away. I will be almost 30. That is not very old, either, but it is impossible to imagine what my life will be like. The girl who stands at the edge of this decade is still very much the girl who, at 9 years old, could not keep her eyes open long enough to welcome in the year 2000.

And then there are times I realize there is nothing to worry about. I am sitting here, typing, trying to care about semicolons and the sounds certain letters make. My mother is consumed by a Harlequin on the couch next to me. We are absorbed and separate and together and there is the moment we both realize my brother is wailing like a thrasher and has been wailing and he's insane and I turn to her and I roll my eyes and she peers over her novel and we laugh and laugh and laugh and I am home and life is beautiful and there is hope.

Merry

Snapshot Sunday

Sort of. Didn't really document much, because I didn't do much. But there was a sunset. And there were cookies. And blankets.

I think that's what Sundays are made of.




You visit the store daily. You remind me of all the people I have ever loved, and your ipod is always in your hand and you openly laugh at tabloids. Your laughter is clear and true and it is familiar. Today, I smiled and I told you to have a good day and I really meant it this time. And then you left. Your hat was crooked and your coat was unbuttoned and you greeted the freshly fallen snow with a perplexed grin. My heart sank and you didn't even know and you will never know and you are my illusion and my secret and I hope that your wife knows exactly how dear you are.

Plateau

You wished me a happy birthday today.
I thought that I didn't hurt anymore.
I was wrong.

Seeing your name on that text message nearly stopped my heart.
I just miss you. And I feel pathetic.

Fuck.

New

I am very, very thrilled.

Because.

I have a new camera.

Caring is creepy...

It's a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when you know we should've folded
On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped
And the whole mess of roads we're now on

-

Max

After years of begging Dad, we finally convinced him to get a dog. We went down to the shelter on Mom's birthday; all of the dogs were barking and jumping, but you were calmly laying there. You had been abused, they said, and I never understood how anyone could hurt you. We brought you home. I thought you were ugly at first, but you weren't. You were perfect.

You followed me everywhere. You slept in my bed, you waited outside the bathroom when I showered, and you paced around my bedroom on the nights I never came home. Whenever I cried, you'd paw at my hands as if to say "Pet me! It will be okay. I'm here." You loved going for long drives. We had some good ones, didn't we? People adored you at stop lights, because you'd sit there so contently and observe the world.

Whenever I brought boys over, you'd bark and bark and bark. You hated them. And you were right to hate them! I should have listened to you. Remember over the summer, when I had that party? You wouldn't stop barking, so we tried to put you upstairs, but you wouldn't move. We had roughly 20 drunken people crammed in the hallway in an attempt to get you to come up with us. But you never came! Hahaha.

But lately, you wouldn't eat. We tried feeding you ham and rice and chicken- nothing appealed to you. You would lay outside and bask in the November sunlight, barely responsive and so, so weak. Mom was afraid to bring you to the vet; she didn't want to hear what they might say. Last night, we cuddled in my bed. Your breathing was erratic and irregular, and I knew that something was terribly wrong.

This afternoon, I got ready for work. You slowly followed me up the stairs one last time and waited in my room for me to finish. I hugged you and kissed you. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. You wouldn't get up when we called you to come out to the car. It was like you knew, somehow. They brought you to the vet while I was at work. After running a bunch of tests, they found out you were full of cancer. Mom and Dad and CJ stayed with you and stroked you while you were put to sleep. They told you they loved you, that I loved you, that you would not suffer anymore. Please know that you were my best friend, and that I will always love and miss you.

RIP, sweetheart.